


Fate in his Hands

by okydoky



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okydoky/pseuds/okydoky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter disappeared two years ago in very mysterious circumstances. When Draco Malfoy finds him, he can't give up the opportunity to get one up on Harry Potter, but as usual he finds himself over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate in his Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas , and . Written for the HD World Cup.

**: :**

Harry's head throbbed painfully as another minute of James's crying passed. This happened most nights now. Either he or Ginny would have to get up in the night with him, every night.

James had always been a sickly child, ever since he was a newborn and had colic, through the chicken pox, the measles, endless colds and a broken arm. And he was only seven. This time, it was an ear infection and getting him to sleep was a nightmare.

"Shh, shh, shh, shhhh," he could hear Ginny soothing from the hall.

Harry rolled over in bed as he tried to ignore the noise – he had work in the morning after all. He knew the consequences of this would be that when Ginny came back to bed she would give him the cold shoulder, and have a go at him in the morning as he was trying to eat his porridge. There would be no chance of sex either – not that that was unusual. It wasn't his fault someone had to go and make a living to put food on the table.

There was a quiet patter of feet in a lull in James's sobbing. Harry turned to face the door.

"Hey, mate. You all right?"

Al was stood in the open door, dressed in baby blue pyjamas, a teddy bear hanging from one hand, and a thumb in his mouth.

"Jamie's making loads of noise, Daddy."

"I know," Harry sighed. "Come and get in here with me for a minute." He sat himself up and held his hands out for Al.

Al pattered over to the bed and clambered up, and dove under the covers and settled into Harry's side. Harry slung his arm around him, pulling him up.

"Is Lil awake as well?"

"Not when _I_ got woke up," Al complained.

"That's good then," Harry said with a yawn. "Do you want me to take you back to bed?"

"Can I stay in here a bit? Quieter in here," Al asked. He yawned and screwed up his eyes.

"I'll Silence Jamie's room for you," Harry offered.

"Mmm, OK," Al said. "Carry?"

"Go on then," Harry said with a chuckle. He climbed out of bed and took Al into his arms. He was going to miss the days when he could carry the children around like this. James was already getting too big to carry and he was only seven. Al and Lily were still small though – Lily was still a toddler after all.

"There you go, mate," Harry said as he laid Al down and tucked him in.

"Thanks, Daddy," Al yawned and snuggled into his quilt, his eyes drifting shut already.

Harry smiled and kissed him on the forehead, smoothing his fringe down. He looked down on Lily – she was sleeping contently as if there hadn't been two hours of crying. He kissed her as well, shutting their bedroom door ajar as he left.

"Gin?" he asked as he passed James's room. There had been quiet for quite a few minutes now.

"Shut up," she hissed as she appeared. "Do you realize how long it's taken me to get him back to sleep?"

"Yes, I do thank you, I've been awake the entire time as well you know. I've had Al in our room because he's been woken up," Harry told her in hushed tones.

"Oh, and that's my fault is it?" Ginny fumed. "I'm such an awful mother that I can't keep my children well, and can't get them to sleep either?"

"Did I fucking say that? You're putting words in my mouth now, aren't you?" Harry whispered fiercely.

"Don't you swear at me, Harry Potter. You could help me a bit more you know, they're your children as well, don't you forget."

"Excuse me!" Harry said, throwing his hands in the air. "I have to be in the office in a few hours time."

"Now you're having a go about me not working? I can't actually believe you!"

"Just go to bed, Ginny," Harry sighed, suddenly exhausted again. "I'm going to Silence his room just in case he wakes up again, and sleep on the put-up bed."

"Fine." Harry watched as she turned away and stalked to their room, slamming the door. As the bang vibrated through the hall way Harry winced and waited for the inevitable.

James started to whimper again, and Harry realized he was in for a very, very long night.

**: :**

After about three hours sleep, Harry arrived at the Auror Department, cup of tea in hand. He slunk into his office and collapsed at his desk.

Almost immediately, Kingsley stuck his head in the door.

"Hi," Harry said, monotone.

"You look like death warmed up," he said cheerfully.

"Feel like it too," Harry moaned.

"Where's Weasley?"

"Is he not here?"

"Nope. Said something about being late, but I can't remember what he said. Something about the wife and the kids?" Kingsley asked.

"Ohhh, yeah. She's at a conference somewhere and he's gotta take the kids… somewhere. Probably his mums."

"Fair enough." Kingsley chucked a file on his desk. "Quick job for this morning – you'll need to wait for Weasley though. Oh, there's a meeting about the Neo Death Eaters later on as well, you'll need to be here for that as well."

Harry grunted and drained the last of his tea.

"Try not to fall asleep," Kingsley said, rolling his eyes and walked away.

Harry stared at his empty cup before he had a quick glance through the file. It was an easy job – it wouldn't take ten minutes, he didn't need Ron really. He couldn't very well go without him – it was against protocol. Maybe he'd go and meet Ron at his mums and grab another cup of tea.

It sounded like a plan. He was going to fall asleep at his desk if he sat down for much longer.

He glanced at the address again. He knew where it was – he could just go and have a look around the area, not go in or anything. Just scope the place out.

Harry nodded to himself and packed his pockets with all sorts of items he might need through out the day, disillusioned himself and apparated himself away with a pop.

The street was a dump, but Harry could tell which house it was straight away by the boarded up windows.

A disturbance had been reported only an hour ago, but there were no signs of anybody or noises anymore.

He frowned. There was really no point of coming here. Harry crossed the street, and peered through the dirty window in the front door. There were none of the signs of the Neo Death Eaters that they had to look for on every job these days.

Ever since the 'end' of the war a decade ago, new groups of wannabe Death Eaters had risen periodically. So far, all had been eradicated with relative ease. However, this newest group who were calling themselves Neo Death Eaters, was proving to be far more dangerous than any of the others. While their activities had not yet cumulated in any deaths or torture, a lot of threats had been relayed and instances of arson were becoming more common.

Even more worrying to Harry than the usual threats against Muggle-born wizards, Half-bloods and Muggles were the personal ones. He knew the Neo Death Eaters were out to get him – there had been enough hints and threats to confirm it a dozen times over. But now he had a family. Their safety was infinitely more important than his – he could help rid the world of this threat, and he had to do it for his own peace of mind. Ginny didn't see it like that though, she believed that he had done his part, and should be home with her. She didn't understand that Harry couldn't do that, couldn't be comfortable as long as he knew that something, someone out there wanted to harm his family.

Despite the Auror Department pouring a significant amount of its resources into discovering the faction leader's identity, they didn't have any concrete leads. Still, this time around, Harry was part of the army, rather than just being brought out at the very end. He would see this through from start to end, and that was that.

He knocked on the door once, loudly.

Nothing.

He knocked again.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something – someone move. Harry whipped around and some Latin words were spoken under muttered breath, and he knew no more.

**: :**

Draco rapped his fingers on the table in a mindless pattern. Pansy was always late. He should be used to it by now, or have learnt to come a quarter of an hour late as well. But he also knew the day he did, that would be the day she turned up on time and tore into him for the rest of their evening for being late. He couldn't win.

He ordered a glass of water from the waiter while he waited and looked at the menu, even though he knew it off by heart. The pub was one of his favourites. Every time he came, he read the entire menu through and then ordered the exact same thing. It was a strange sort of tradition, but Draco was stuck in his ways and that was how he liked it. He liked to know what to expect in life. He'd had enough excitement to last a long time.

"Draco!" Pansy called as she walked towards him. She wiggled her fingers at him and he raised a hand in greeting back to her. Her other hand rested on her stomach. She was three months pregnant, and by the size of her bump, Draco was beginning to suspect there was more than one in there. When Astoria had been pregnant with Scorpius she hadn't shown for quite some time.

Draco stood up and pulled her chair out for her, pushing it in as she sat down. He sat back down in his own seat and picked up his knife and fork, polishing them with his napkin.

"How are you, Pansy?" he asked.

Pansy took his glass of water and took a long sip. "Not too bad. I think my morning sickness may have abated at last, so that's definitely a bonus."

"Indeed," Draco agreed.

"How are you?" she asked.

Draco paused for a moment as the waiter came over, and Pansy ordered their usual drinks.

"I'm fine," Draco told her. He and Pansy met for dinner every few weeks, always in a Muggle location. The first few times after they had begun to meet, they had met in various wizarding establishments in Diagon Alley, but word always got back to Astoria.

This wouldn't have been a problem, but word always got back that they were seen 'cuddling up together' or 'canoodling' or some other such nonsense. First of all, if Draco was going to have an affair, he wasn't going to do it with Pansy in the middle of Diagon Alley, where everybody could see. He had no idea how it had escaped their notice that he was a Slytherin for Merlin's sake. Plus, there was the fact that when he did take other partners, they were of the male persuasion.

He'd married for an heir, and that was that. Draco was certain that Astoria knew of his persuasion, but she had never mentioned it and neither had he. She definitely knew that it was a marriage of convenience – it was for her benefit as well as Draco's. It was easier all around. Astoria was free to take other partners as well if she wished, as long as she didn't do anything stupid, like get pregnant or fall in love. It was most perplexing, as if it were perfectly fine for him to have an affair with a man, but any hint of an affair with a woman and Astoria would be on his case.

"Good," Pansy said with a smile. "It's been a while since we've been to this restaurant, hasn't it?"

"It must have been a couple of years at least."

"We really should come here more often, it looks lovely now it's been done up."

"Absolutely," Draco said. "Have you chosen what you are going to order?"

Pansy took a moment to look at the menu again before she put it down. "We're craving cheese today," she said with a roll of her eyes and a pat on her belly. "How about you? The usual?"

"Can't beat it." Draco looked around for their waiter, but couldn't see him. Instead, he saw a tall man with a dark head of hair disappear around the bar. Draco frowned, trying to place the vaguely familiar silhouette. He didn't know anybody from around here – the man must simply bear a resemblance to an acquaintance.

"Here we go, sir," the waiter said breathlessly, interrupting Draco's thoughts. He presented Draco with a glass of wine and placed a glass of orange juice in front of Pansy. Draco missed the days they would share a bottle of wine over their meal, getting slightly tipsy and revealing too much about their lives, or more specifically, sex lives.

"Thank you," Draco said, inclining his head.

"Are you ready to order your meals?" he asked.

"We are." Pansy ordered both their meals, and the waiter scurried away to the kitchens.

"How's Goyle?" Draco asked.

"You really need to stop calling him that. I'm a Goyle now as well," she reminded him, sticking the finger with her wedding ring, up at him.

"I try and forget that every day," he told her, shuddering at the thought.

Not that her pregnancy made it easy to forget. It was becoming more and more obvious as the days passed, and Draco was finding it more and more difficult to stop thinking about how it had come about. He was going to give in one day and think about it. Preferably when he was alone, in a bathroom in case he threw up. He didn't have a particularly strong constitution for things which repulsed him.

Pansy chuckled. "I imagine it's quite similar to how Astoria ignores your indiscretions."

"Bitch."

"You love me really. Speaking of indiscretions, how is Terry these days?"

"He's decided he's straight again," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "It'll last a month – like last time - and I'll get a desperate owl, begging me to come around and fuck him until he can't see."

"I appreciate the details there," Pansy noted.

Draco sighed. "I do try, darling, I can only imagine how unsatisfying Gregory must be at times."

Pansy smirked and Draco returned the expression fondly. He did love having dinner with Pansy. He only wished he didn't have to keep it from Astoria. It was one of the few things in his life he could have been honest about without hurting her feelings, and it frustrated him to have to lie about something perfectly acceptable. But she wouldn't listen to him, so he had no choice.

"Well, you would know," Pansy said, raising an eyebrow.

Draco did his best to hide the fact that bile had risen in his throat at the thought of himself and Goyle. This was why he was avoiding the thought of Goyle and Pansy, he reminded himself. He swallowed down bile, taking an enormous gulp of wine before standing up. He tucked his chair under the table.

"Do excuse me for a moment," Draco said icily to Pansy, even though he knew she wouldn't hear him through all the cackling laughter that was escaping past the hand she had pressed to her lips.

He strode into the bathrooms, checking all the stalls to make sure he was alone, before spitting in one of the toilets.

God damn Pansy and her ability to completely disgust him. She got him every time and always laughed like the hag she should have been.

Draco left after casting a Freshening Charm in his mouth and washing his hands thoroughly.

As he passed the bar he caught a glimpse of that dark haired man again. He was sure he recognised that head of hair, but he was also fairly sure he had never met (or slept with) any man from this area of Oxford. The city wasn't one of their usual haunts.

"Are you all right?" Pansy asked him as he sat down.

Draco glared at her and she started to cackle again. When she calmed down, Draco began to speak. "Say, Pansy. You see that barman behind me?"

She glanced over his shoulder. "Yes..."

"Do you recognise him? Or is it just me?" What Draco didn't know was that the second he had asked that question, the man in his own thoughts had disappeared around the corner, and Pansy was left looking at an elderly gentleman.

"It's just you, darling," Pansy told him. "Believe me, I've never seen him, and I can guarantee you've never shagged him before."

"Oh," Draco said, slightly put out. "That's a shame."

"Whatever flies your broomstick," Pansy said with a shake of her head. She tucked her dark hair behind her ear. "How is Astoria doing these days?"

"She's well," Draco answered.

"And Scorpius?"

Draco grinned at the sound of his son's name. "Perfect, as usual, what more do you expect?"

"From a Malfoy?" Pansy asked, pausing for a moment, grinning wider and wider as Draco's glare intensified with every passed second. "Perfection of course."

Draco smirked, satisfied. His son was perfect - he was probably the only reason Astoria didn't know every last detail of his 'indiscretions', as Pansy put it. While Astoria was in the dark, she was happy and when Astoria was happy, Scorpius was. And that was the most important thing.

As the two of them finished their meals in peace, Draco didn't catch another glimpse of the dark haired barman. It was only as Draco helped Pansy into her coat that Draco's eyes strayed to the bar and a pair of green eyes stared back at him. There was only one person he knew that looked like that – Harry Potter. But no one had seen him for years.

"Draco, let me go!" Pansy screeched.

Draco looked down at his hands which were gripping the collar of Pansy's coat as well as pulling her hair.

"Oh sorry," Draco said as he released her coat. "I could have sworn that…"

"What?" Pansy asked as she stroked her hair, scowling still.

"Nothing," Draco said dismissively. "Nothing. Let's go."

Even if it was Harry Potter, what did he care? It was none of his business, and like most things Harry Potter was involved in, would only lead to trouble.

**: :**

Twenty minutes later, after Draco had seen Pansy to her home, he was back in the bar. It turned out that leopards didn't change their spots – where Harry Potter was concerned Draco couldn't leave well enough alone.

When Harry Potter went missing, Draco had been shaken. They weren't friends by any means – a nod in the corridors of the ministry, a casual greeting if they were standing next to each other in a queue. But he was always there. In the papers, on the radio, at big social events. And then he wasn't. He'd disappeared into thin air.

Apparently he'd been out on a job for work, but he'd never returned. His devastated wife had been on the front page of the _Prophet_ every day for weeks, begging him to come home – as if he'd left willingly. There had been an enormous search for him – Draco was fairly certain it was still in operation. But no one had found a single sign of Harry Potter, not for two years. After a year, Potter's wife had begun to be referred to as a widow, and a single mother. Draco supposed she was.

So when Draco had the slightest inkling that he might know where Harry Potter had been hiding for the last two years, he couldn't resist. The prospects for blackmail were enormous, not to mention finding out what the hell Potter was thinking when he left. It seemed like Potter's morbid fascination with Draco had transferred to Draco once he went missing.

His head held high, Draco walked back into the bar and cast his gaze around for Potter. There he was, at the bar, wiping a glass with a towel as he spoke to a fellow employee. With a smirk – he felt it would be best to greet Potter with an expression that he would be familiar with from their school days – Draco walked over to the bar and stood before Harry.

"Hello!" Harry said. He put down the glass and towel and grinned at Draco. "What can I get you?"

Draco looked at Harry for a few moments before he managed to speak. "Hello, Potter."

"Think you've got the wrong bloke, mate," Harry said. "Although, for a bloke like you I could be anyone you want me to be." He winked.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he composed himself, then sneered, "Don't fuck around, Potter, you know exactly who I am."

"Sorry, mate," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Did you want a drink then?"

"Scotch on the rocks," Draco said, and he watched Harry pour his drink.

That man WAS Harry Potter, there was no doubt about it. Draco had known the man for so much of his life there was no way on earth he could be wrong. That face, that body, it was Harry Potter. But the person inside the body… that wasn't the Harry Potter Draco knew and tolerated.

What had happened? Speculations were running through Draco's mind at a hundred miles a minute. Was this the result of a curse two years ago? Could it have turned him into a completely different person? Draco was fairly sure this could be accomplished with a couple of dark curses his father had bandied about over the years, and he knew there was a combination of potions that contorted personalities as well. Was there anything left of Harry Potter in there?

"There you go," Harry said as he placed a serviette and then the tumbler of amber liquid on the bar.

Draco handed him a ten pound note and watched as Harry punched something into the till and gathered his change.

"Thank you," Draco replied as Harry handed the change back.

Harry leant on the bar and looked at Draco. The place was pretty much empty; another member of staff was serving the only other customer.

"You here alone then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco replied. "Look, Potter, this game is fun; you don't know who I am, ha ha, hilarious. But fucking stop it, all right?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I really have no idea who you are, mate, but like I said, I'm very willing to get to know you."

"Stop fucking hitting on me and _listen_ to me. I know you, we went to school together. You might not know who I am, but I know you. Very well in fact. I'm Draco Malfoy. There is no doubt at all you are who I think you are."

That stopped Harry leering for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"School, Potter, that place where Professors attempted to nurture the two brain cells between your ears."

"You… you knew me at school?" Harry asked. He had suddenly stood up straight and wasn't moving a muscle. Maybe Draco had finally managed to provoke a reaction that Harry didn't re-interpret as an invitation for sex.

Draco nodded. Potter clearly had no idea who he was – maybe it was memory loss. But from the blatant come-ons which were coming from Potter, it seemed as if a lot was different to the life he used to be living with his wife and kids. Draco had never heard even a whisper of a rumour of Potter's sexual orientation being anything but heterosexual. Maybe his personality had been swapped – Draco had heard rumours of a potion which could do that – maybe Potter had been the guinea pig.

What on earth had happened? How had Potter never been found? Draco started to construct conspiracy theories next to the ideas about different spells and potions.

"Tell me something," Harry said. "Something that would prove that you knew me before you came in here."

Draco sighed, annoyed. "How exactly am I supposed to do that? You clearly don't remember anything about the person I knew… what happened to you?"

"Tell me," Harry demanded. His eyes blazed and Draco could feel magic crackling in the air.

A thought struck Draco like a lightning bolt. Did Potter even know about magic? He couldn't do, or his face would be splashed all over the front pages once again. If he was still using magic Potter would have been tracked – there wouldn't be a chance that he would still be 'lost'. Draco could definitely use this to his advantage.

"You have a scar," Draco said. Potter's hair covered his forehead completely. He had a thick fringe, there wasn't a chance that Draco could see Potter's distinctive scar through that mess. "On your forehead, in the shape of a zig zag – a lightning bolt."

Harry didn't say a word as he raised a steady hand to check his mop of hair was covering his scar. It was. Harry pushed the hair back and revealed his scar. It was as pronounced as Draco remembered – he had wondered whether it would have faded like the Dark Mark. Evidently it didn't. It was a constant reminder that something had happened to Harry, something big, something that he didn't remember at all.

"What's your name?" Draco asked.

Despite the fact that the stare Harry was currently giving Draco felt like it was eating his insides, Draco didn't let his gaze drop.

"Jack Collins," Harry answered. "You knew me as… Potter?"

"Harry," Draco said, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. "Your name is Harry Potter."

Harry nodded slowly. "Right… well. I don't know what to say."

"Tell me what happened to you," Draco insisted.

"I was in an accident and lost my memory. No one knows where I came from, or how it happened. Apparently somebody found me and took me to the hospital. I was in a coma for a while. Three weeks I think."

"Did they try and find out who you were?" Draco asked.

"They didn't find anything."

"And you're OK with that?"

"I've got a new life now. I don't remember anything or anyone and I never will… it's probably kinder to leave it after all this time. They must all think I'm dead – why drag it all back up? I'm happy with my partner, Patrick. I've been thinking about this for years now," he said, choking on slightly hysterical laughter. "I wouldn't leave him for my old life. They'll have all moved on, right?"

Draco simply nodded. He knew Weasley was still hoping Harry would re-appear and there wasn't a chance that his kids didn't miss him. Now didn't feel like the right time to tell Harry about them, though. Depending on how the rest of the conversation went, there might never be a right time.

"Cool," Harry said. "It's been so long. Did… did I have much family?"

"Your parents died when you were young, only a year old. You lost quite a few people when you were growing up as well," Draco said. "There's – "

"Jack!"

Harry swung around to talk to a man who had emerged through a door behind the bar. Draco watched as they conversed in low voices, and Harry turned to him again.

"Look, I appreciate you coming to talk to me," Harry sighed. "But don't worry about me. You've already said there isn't anyone expecting me anymore and no one that relied on me – so just leave it. Forget you saw me, it will make it easier for everyone." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Draco shouted. "There are a few things I need to tell you about you before I can just leave you alone. After I've told you, you're quite welcome to fuck off where ever you like. OK?" As long as it suited Draco of course.

"I can't talk for any longer, that was my boss, he needs a hand with something," Harry said reluctantly.

"Meet me then, Thursday dinner time?"

"Where?"

"Outside this place. I don't know many places around here, but I'm sure you know somewhere we can go to sit and talk," Draco suggested.

Harry sighed again. "Fine. Here at six on Thursday. I've gotta go. It was nice to meet you." With that, Harry walked away and it occurred to Draco that if Harry was going to be a wanker, there was nothing stopping him doing exactly the same.

Draco finished his drink in one mouthful and left. He had some thinking to do -- about what he was going to do with Harry Potter. After all, was there ever a time Draco could help but play with Harry Potter when he was at Draco's mercy?

**: :**

"Bye!" Harry yelled as he left the bar. They'd just finished cleaning up, all that was left to do was lock up and he definitely wasn't needed for that when the manager was about.

Harry heard a deep voice call out, "Later, Jack!" as he let the door shut.

A gust of wind blew straight through him, chilling him to the tips of his toes. He pulled the zip of his coat right up to his throat as he started to walk at an accelerated pace.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to glance at the screen. No texts, just a reminder that his battery was going. Usually when he left work there was a message waiting for him from Patrick. He wasn't really one expecting one tonight – the fight they'd had before Harry left for work had been brutal, and Harry knew a significant amount of sucking up was going to be in order. It always was with Patrick.

Harry sighed and pushed the fight to the back of his mind. Somehow, something even more important and earth shattering had happened that night – something that eclipsed an apocalyptic fight.

He'd never expected to meet anybody from his 'old life'. After an extremely lonely first year, Harry had decided he'd moped enough, and that was that. Despite what he had told Draco, Harry was slightly disappointed to find out there was no one waiting for him. He supposed he'd been expecting parents at least, maybe a boyfriend or a brother or sister.

But what about Draco? He'd looked pretty amazed to see Harry and hear his story – there had to be more to the relationship they'd shared than Draco was letting on. Harry grinned to himself at the thought of a one night stand, or fling with Draco – there was no denying it, the man was fit. It was such a pity that Harry didn't remember shagging him.

Harry arrived at his front door and pulled out his key, turning it in the lock and letting himself in the house.

"Hello?"

There were no lights on downstairs and nothing shining down the stairs either.

"Paddy?"

No answer.

Harry yawned – it was late, Patrick was probably in bed. He wandered through to the kitchen, flicking the light on first, and went to make a bit of toast before he went up to bed himself. There was a note on the toaster – Patrick knew his habits well.

He ripped the envelope open, grabbing bread with one hand before the words on the page registered. The bread fell from his hand.

_Jack,_

I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry.

Paddy.

Fuck.

Perhaps Draco had come into his life at just the right time.

**: :**

By the time Thursday evening came around there was still no word from Patrick. Their friends wouldn't tell him anything, Harry had even braved a phone call to Patrick's mother, which had been useless. Even his mobile number had been changed.

Their relationship had been difficult. Harry could admit that as well as the next bloke. But for Harry the relationship had been passionate not angry. Patrick hadn't felt the same. That was what Harry looked for in a relationship. He wanted someone who would stand up to him, argue with him and stimulate him. Plus, the sex was always brilliant: passionate and desperate – in other words, absolutely to die for.

As Harry dressed for his dinner with Draco, he promised himself he wouldn't get drunk and proposition the poor man again. Draco hadn't been interested, even if he was gay. Maybe the sex they'd had before had been awful.

An hour later, Harry found himself slightly tipsy and working out the best way to get Draco into bed. Despite the fact that he had been so ridiculously excited about the dinner he'd almost made himself sick, Harry found himself tuning in and out of Draco's tales of how they used to torture each other at school. He wasn't certain whether this was because he'd been thinking of seducing the man, or because he genuinely wasn't interested in his old life. Why should he be interested in people who couldn't be bothered to come looking for him?

"Potter, are you even listening to me?"

Harry looked up from his glass of wine and smiled.

"It's Jack, and of course. I was slightly distracted by the way you're fellating your fork though," Harry admitted cheekily. He swallowed the last of his wine and poured them both large glasses.

"Just because your mind is permanently in the gutter, doesn't mean everyone's is," Draco said. Harry's grin widened as he watched Draco put down his fork.

"Don't stop," Harry insisted. "I was quite enjoying the show."

"Potter…" Draco said. To Harry, the warning sounded reluctant, as if Draco didn't really want him to stop.

Harry slipped off his shoe and slid his foot up Draco's calf.

Draco gave no indication that it was even his leg Harry was feeling up apart from taking another large gulp of wine.

"Are you finished?" Draco asked, gesturing towards Harry's plate.

"I am," Harry replied. He slid his foot higher, running his toes along Draco's inner thigh.

Draco gripped his wine glass tightly.

"Have we done this before?" Harry asked. He let his toes hover over Draco's crotch for a few moments before settling his foot down on Draco's half-hard cock.

Shaking his head, Draco answered. "No, we haven't."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Why the fuck not?"

Draco gritted his teeth and put his wine glass down. He was going to smash it soon, Harry noted with glee.

"We hate each other."

"Ah, of course." Harry massaged his toes into Draco's crotch with as much pressure as he could manage. "How could I forget?"

"You've apparently forgotten enough that you don't understand how bad an idea this is," Draco said. "There's so much you don't know."

"None of it's important to me," Harry said honestly. "I'm more concerned with getting you in my bed and fucking you within in inch of your life." He removed his foot from Draco and slipped his shoe back on.

"Don't say that so loudly," Draco hissed.

"Come back to mine and you won't have to worry about how much noise I make." Harry grinned.

Draco let out a loud breath of air in frustration. "This is an awful idea – "

"I don't care."

"I know. Which is why, despite my better judgment, I am going to _let_ you take me back to yours and do what ever you like to me."

Harry looked at Draco, taking in the burning look in his eyes, how his bottom lip was bright red from where he had chewed it, the way his blonde hair fell in his eyes.

Rising to his feet, Harry winked and said, "I'll just go and pay. Better let you calm down a minute, I suppose."

As he walked away from the table, he glanced around at Draco, and for the first time, Harry saw a smile take over his face. It was wicked and full of promise, and Harry knew that he was in for one hell of a night.

It barely seemed to take minutes to get back to his house. They walked back in near silence, their knuckles brushing against each other as they walked. One street before they would arrive in Harry's, Draco pushed him up against a wall down a dark alley and kissed him. He had brushed his lips against Harry's before Harry had groaned, desperate with desire, and switched them around so Draco was pushed up against the dirty wall. Harry rested his palms on the wall next to Draco's head as he kissed him, slipping his tongue into Draco's mouth, twisting it until Draco moaned.

Draco pulled at his jacket with his hands, pulling his mouth away from Harry's. He arched his hips so their crotches rubbed together and breathed, "How far are we?"

"Literally 100 steps away… still too far," Harry insisted, grasping Draco's arse with his hands and grinding himself into Draco's body.

God, he couldn't wait. This was too much, the foreplay in the restaurant had turned him on outrageously, and seeing Draco against the wall, down a dirty alley, willing to give himself up to Harry nearly broke him.

"Harry…" Draco moaned. Harry barely heard him. "Take me to bed. Please."

Somehow, Harry got the impression Draco didn't say please very often, never mind submit to somebody like this.

Harry took a deep breath. "Yeah, come on. Hurry."

He took Draco's hand and almost at a run, pulled him back to his home. He fumbled with the key when they arrived, too distracted by Draco's lips on his neck feeling like butterflies landing, to concentrate.

They practically fell in the house, hands moving constantly, pulling and tugging at clothes, searching for elusive flesh.

Harry managed to gather enough control to pull Draco to his bedroom, losing their shirts and jackets as they went.

Draco fell on the bed, reclining and leaning on his elbows.

"You're gorgeous," Harry said as he looked down at the man lying on his bed.

"Thank you. Lose the trousers," Draco said, and pulled the thick leather belt out of his trousers in one. Harry watched blankly as Draco undid the buttons of his trousers with about thirty times more co-ordination than Harry possessed normally, never mind when he was this turned on.

Harry unzipped his trousers and they fell to his ankles immediately. He ran his fingers along the waistband of his boxers.

"Come here," Draco purred, and Harry walked over, settling between Draco's legs, and kissing him.

After a few minutes of kissing, which quickly became more heated and passionate as they passed, Harry pulled away.

"What do you want?" Harry murmured.

Draco took a deep breath. "I don't know – whatever you want to do to me."

Harry groaned. "That is one phrase you should never say to a man." He moved down his body and crouched between his legs. "I'm going to suck you off 'til you come in my mouth, and then I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to come like that as well. All right?"

Draco moaned and thrust his hips up, hitting nothing but air.

"Be better if you were doing it rather than talking about it."

Harry chuckled, a low dark laugh. He pulled Draco's boxers down with no preamble and took his reddened cock in his hand.

"You been tested and that, yeah?" Harry asked, as he circled his thumb around the head, swiping the liquid that had accumulated there.

Draco nodded hurriedly.

"Good. There's nothing better than a blow job without a condom," he said with a wink. "I'm still going to have to use one… you know, later."

"Fine," Draco said. "Fine, just …please!"

Harry laughed again before he moved his hand to the base of Draco's cock and took the rest in his mouth, sucking hard and massaging his balls.

He knew from the beginning it wasn't going to take long. Almost straight away, Draco's balls tightened up and he thrust up into Harry's mouth. Harry smirked as he saw Draco clutch at the sheets.

"Harry!" Draco groaned and Harry braced himself. A second or two later, Draco's muscles stiffened and he came, arching his back and moaning silently.

Harry kept sucking and licking until Draco moved away, pulling him up to face level and drawing him into a kiss.

Another thing Harry loved was kissing someone after giving a blow job. He loved that someone was open minded enough to do that – it made him even harder.

"Fuck me," Draco said against Harry's lips.

Harry nodded and felt for the lube and condoms in his bedside table. He climbed off the bed for a second, getting rid of his boxers before propping Draco's hips up on a pillow.

He chucked the lube at Draco. "Let me watch you prepare yourself."

Draco smirked and pulled the lid off, spreading it over his fingers and then reaching between his legs. He spread his legs wide, giving Harry an amazing view, before he slid one finger inside his arse, slowly but firmly.

Harry moaned and took his cock in his hand, stroking up and down slowly and putting the condom on.

"Another," Harry insisted.

Draco did as Harry asked, inserting another finger along side his first, spreading them, and moaning as Harry guessed he hit his prostate.

"Now?" Harry asked, moving over Draco.

"Wait," Draco said, slipping a third digit in his arse and twisting them harshly, arching up into his own touch. "Now," he said and pulled his fingers away.

Harry pulled Draco's legs over his shoulders as he lined his cock up with Draco's arse. He thrust forwards, pushing the head past the first ring of muscle, then the next until he was fully sheathed inside Draco.

"All right?" he asked, the muscles in his neck straining with the effort not to move.

"Yeah," Draco said, pushing into Harry. "Now, fuck me."

Harry did as he was told and began to move inside Draco, pushing in and pulling out, watching as Draco moaned, groaned and squeaked beneath him.

"I'm not a doll," Draco gasped. "Harder, please, harder!"

That was one instruction Harry could definitely follow, and he fucked Draco harder and faster until he felt Draco come all over his stomach in warm wet spurts.

"Come, Potter," Draco purred, as he laid back, his fringe sticking to his forehead, and his cheeks flushed. "Come for me."

Harry moaned, and two thrusts later, he came, letting his orgasm take over and swallow him whole. He collapsed on the bed next to Draco, pulling off the condom and aiming at the bin.

He snuggled into Draco's side, not caring that this wasn't the norm, that Draco was probably expecting to disappear right about now.

Harry grabbed his hand. "Stay," he murmured, before he fell into a deep sleep.

**: :**

The kettle clicked, startling Draco out of his daydream. He was still at Harry's house, having left Harry in bed – the man slept like the dead.

Unable to sleep any longer, Draco had left the furnace of Harry's bed and headed downstairs to make himself a cup of coffee and, hopefully, find some breakfast.

He'd found coffee granules pretty quickly and there was about an inch left of milk in the fridge as well – it was a good job Harry wasn't the only 'Muggle' Draco had ever been with.

As he poured the steaming water into his mug, the smell of coffee filled his sinuses, almost instantly awaking him. He took the mug with him and headed upstairs. Maybe if he was lucky he would get morning sex as well.

Their date last night had been both disastrous and brilliant on different levels. Draco had been torn as whether to tell Harry about his wife and kids, but one look at his son when he left Malfoy Manor had convinced him to do the right thing (eventually), however much he didn't want to.

His father would have been disgusted with him – this was not how he had been brought up at all.

Draco climbed back into bed. Harry was still out like a light, limbs flung haphazardly over the bed, covers riding low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination. A trail of hair started at his belly button and led down under the covers, making Draco want to lick it and keep going.

Last week in Diagon Alley, Draco had seen his guilt in the flesh. As he walked to Flourish and Blotts, Ginny Potter had walked past him with the three kids. The youngest boy was the spitting image of Harry, but Draco could see Harry in all of their faces.

He wondered whether they still remembered their father. The eldest boy - James, he recalled - must have been coming up to ten by now. He had to have some lingering memories of his father.

It would have killed Draco if Scorpius didn't remember him. He couldn't imagine his life without his son. Draco's stomach clenched at the thought, and he had to put his coffee down. The movement finally woke Harry. He lengthened his torso, stretching his arms above his head and pointed his toes before opening his eyes.

Draco watched a smile brighten up Harry's face when he saw Draco was still there.

"Hello," Harry said, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Morning. I hope you don't mind me using your kitchen." He gestured to the mug on the bedside table.

"'Course not," Harry said, sitting up. "You could have made me one though."

"Since I wasn't sure whether you were ever going to emerge from sleep, it would have been a waste of good coffee." Draco smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes and clambered out of bed. Draco's eyes were drawn directly to Harry's naked arse as he walked across the room and pulled a pair of jogging bottoms on.

"I prefer them off," Draco called as Harry wandered out the door.

He turned around and winked. "I'm sure you do. But we don't want to give the neighbours a show, do we?"

"It's probably the most excitement they'll have had in their lives for a very long time," Draco said.

Harry laughed, the noise ringing through the room. "Very true, but that won't stop them calling the police, trust me."

The stairs creaked as Harry padded down them. His hand firmly wrapped around his warm mug, Draco stretched his legs off the side of the bed and followed Harry to the kitchen.

"Are you working today?" Draco asked.

Harry slid a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. "Yeah, in about half an hour actually. It's a good job you woke me up."

Draco nodded. "Not really enough time for a quick shag on the sofa then?"

Harry laughed. "Unfortunately not. But if you come back this evening, we can have a nice long shag in my bed or in the shower, or even on the sofa if you really want."

Draco swallowed. "What time do you finish work?"

"Half five," Harry answered. "Do you want some toast?"

"Please. I'll be free some time after seven if that's all right?" The toaster popped, startling Draco. He always forgot they did that.

"Of course." Harry handed Draco a plate of toast and nudged the butter towards him.

Draco smirked and began to butter his toast. "Good. I'm looking forward to it already."

Harry smiled and leaned over the table. Draco caught his lips in a kiss instantly, tasting bitter coffee in Harry's mouth. He ran his tongue over Harry's bottom lip, feeling the tip catch on rough, bitten skin and he pulled away.

Harry sighed in satisfaction and went back to his toast preparation.

His cock already half-hard in anticipation of their evening, Draco finished his coffee. The sooner he left, the sooner he could come back.

**: :**

When Draco finally returned home (he had some errands to do first), Scorpius attached himself to his leg instantly.

"Dad!"

Draco smiled at his son. "Hello, you. I think you may have grown since the last time I saw you."

Scorpius giggled. "You saw me yesterday, silly. Come play with me in the garden." Scorpius took Draco's hand and began to pull him towards the door.

Draco shook his head. "Your mother will be expecting us for lunch soon. How about we go to the lawns after we finish eating? I presume we're eating on the patio as it is a nice day."

Scorpius grinned and ran off to the kitchen to look for his mother. Draco watched as he scampered off before he went to sit outside to wait for them.

It wasn't long before Astoria and Scorpius joined him outside. For once, the sun was shining down on the patio, illuminating the space and his family. Astoria walked slowly next to Scorpius who was carrying a tray of cups and a pot of tea.

Astoria raised her eyebrows as she took the tray from Scorpius. Draco's hand flew to his throat as he felt for bruises and bite marks. He knew instantly from her rueful gaze that his actions had just confirmed her suspicions again.

The rest of their lunch went pleasantly – both he and Astoria had learnt by now what not to say in order to have a peaceful life and to keep any necessary arguments far away from young ears.

Draco spent a few minutes chasing his son around the garden before Scorpius decided to climb a tree. From the base, Draco cast a couple of spells to stop him falling and reminded himself that he could always levitate Scorpius out of the tree if he got stuck. He sat at the bottom, a few feet away as he watched his son clamber higher and higher up the old oak.

There was a pop and a house elf appeared before him. "Master Malfoy! I has the newspaper for you!"

"Thank you, Misty," Draco said, taking the paper of the house-elf and watching as it popped away back to the house.

Unrolling it, he settled it down on the grass to read. He straightened the front page out and glanced at the headline, feeling his heart clench at the picture.

JAMES POTTER IN CRITICAL CONDITION  
APPEAL FOR HARRY POTTER TO RETURN RENEWED

Underneath that was a picture of Harry holding a newborn James. The picture was 9 years old now, but Harry looked just the same.

Draco scanned through the article and read that James was fighting a serious kidney infection and his father was needed to see if he was a match for a transplant. None of the other family was the same blood type apparently.

He glanced up at his son, who grinned down at Draco happily, waving. When he went to Harry's later on the newspaper was coming with him.

**: :**

There was a knock at the door. Harry turned around to look at the front door and grinned. He jumped up and bounded to the door, taking a second to turn down his smile a few watts.

"Draco!" He said as he opened the door and let Draco in. "Are you OK?"

Draco nodded and managed a smile, but he knew it was strained. "How are you?"

"Brilliant! Better now you're here of course." Harry grinned and led Draco over to sit on the couch and poured him a glass of wine.

"You're such a cheesy bastard," Draco sighed, taking the wine and gulping down a large mouthful.

"You love it," Harry countered.

Draco settled against the back of the couch, closing his eyes and releasing a tension-filled sigh. "Of course I do, Potter."

Harry frowned and wondered whether Draco would ever manage his new name. "What's in the bag?"

"Give me a minute," Draco said. "It's been a long day."

"You do look tense," Harry soothed. He slid his hand up Draco's thigh. "Maybe I could help you with that?" He let his hand cup Draco's crotch, massaging the bulge.

Draco sighed and pushed up into Harry's hand. Harry grinned and slid over on the couch to straddle Draco's lap.

"Harry…"

"I don't suppose that bag is full of hand cuffs and butt plugs and other varied but equally brilliant sex toys, is it?" Harry asked and he began to grind down, his own cock swelling and pushing against the zip of his trousers.

Draco groaned and threw his head back against the cushions of the couch. His hands slid up and down Harry's thighs as Harry undulated on top of him.

"Harry, no, no. I need to talk to you," Draco insisted, urging Harry off his knee and stood up. His trousers were tented and he turned around to try and calm himself down.

Harry lay back on the couch and groaned. "What's this about, Draco?"

"Just give me a minute, I had this all planned out I just need to…. Just wait, OK?" Draco pleaded.

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes as he watched Draco pace up and down, then stop and pick up the bag he had left on the floor.

Draco threw a newspaper on Harry's knee. He picked it up and unfolded it.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"Look at it."

"Why's the picture moving? Is… is that me? Draco, what the fuck is going on?" Harry said, the volume of his voice rising as he spoke. His brain couldn't process this. He couldn't decide which element to concentrate on.

"I don't know where to start," Draco said and he finally looked at Harry.

"Is this my son?"

Draco nodded.

"What on earth are you playing at? You've just been stringing me along for the last week, lying to me. What is wrong with you?" Harry yelled.

"I know," Draco yelled back. "You think this has been fucking easy for me? I was going to tell you, but you just kept fucking telling me you didn't want to know. What was I supposed to do?"

"You should have told me! I didn't know any better. Oh my fucking God. Do you know what happened to me? How on earth do I have a son?" Harry ranted, "I'm gay!"

"You haven't got one son, Potter, you've got two. And a daughter as well." Draco sighed.

Harry leapt off the couch and walked right up to Draco so they were almost nose to nose.

"You were married. You _are_ married."

When Harry punched Draco in the face, it came as a relief to them both.

Draco cradled his rapidly reddening cheek as Harry pulled back his fist, rubbing his sore knuckles.

"Better?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Was… was I happy?"

Draco nodded. "As far as I know. I haven't had much to do with you since school; although we did see each other around work every now and then."

"You need to take me back." Harry began to pace again.

"I know. I knew as soon as I saw the paper," Draco admitted.

"Bit of a change of heart there," Harry pointed out, looking at his shoes.

"I would do the same for my son."

"WHAT THE FUCK? Don't tell me you're married as well?"

"I am," Draco confessed. "She knows about me… that I'm gay."

"Well, bloody good for you… is this all a joke? This sodding newspaper is advertising a wand shop and owls…am I on TV?"

Draco sighed. "Oh yes, there's a bit more I need to tell you…" He pulled his wand from a holster. "There was a wand like this, and a curse…"

**: :**

After Draco took Harry to St. Mungo's - and had seen the look on Ginny Weasley's face when he realized her wayward husband had returned – Draco left.

And he didn't hear from Harry for a long, long time.

"Oh, Pansy," he whined. "How did I fuck it up so badly?"

"You were thinking with your cock rather than your brain darling… I know you told me about your 'plans' to manipulate him, but you do remember how well all previous schemes of yours went don't you?" She moved her daughter Norelle to her other arm.

"Why do I talk to you?" Draco asked. "You're not supposed to point out _my_ faults. Tell me _he's_ a tosser or something." He placed Pansy's son, Dominic, over his shoulder and patted his back.

"He's Harry Potter. Of course he's a tosser. But you fucked up, and I'm tired of hearing about him; it's been months and months. What's happened now?"

Draco frowned. It may have been slightly true that whenever he saw a picture of Harry in the paper, or caught a glimpse of him in the halls of the Ministry, he went to Pansy to complain about it.

"The paper reported that James has started Hogwarts – and don't get me wrong, it's brilliant that he's well now. But Harry should be with me."

"Well, that's what lying to a Gryffindor gets you. They always find out and end up cock blocking you," Pansy reproached him.

"Please never repeat that phrase."

"If you promise to never moan about Potter again," Pansy countered.

"Fuck you."

"We tried that, darling, years ago, it was awful. Don't you remember?"

Draco snorted.

"You should be concentrating on your son, he goes to Hogwarts next year and then he'll be gone. Have you thought about that? When was the last time you saw him?"

"Yesterday, thank you very much. And tomorrow we're going to Diagon Alley for ice cream," Draco told her. He'd only just planned the trip, but he knew Scorpius would appreciate it. And it was past time he concentrated on his family.

That was apparently what Potter was doing. The Neo Death Eaters had been caught and drugged with enough Veritaserum to force them to confess the curse they'd cast on him. Potter had his memory and his family back. Draco had no idea how – or if – Potter was managing to remain straight and loyal. By all newspaper accounts (as well as Pansy's tales) they appeared to be managing brilliantly and to have fallen right back into their marriage. But it seemed far too convenient, and Draco ached to confront him, but Potter wouldn't speak to him at all.

"Draco?" Pansy said gently. "Get a grip."

He nodded. "I'm going to stop being a twat. Sorry… thanks."

"Don't worry, darling, I'll always be here to point out when you're being a twat."

**: :**

"It's getting cold, Draco, I'm going to go inside," Astoria said. She stood up and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I'll be up in a while." Draco got to his feet quickly and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She caught his arm. "He'll be all right, Draco, he's a sensible boy."

"I know. It's going to be so quiet around here now."

"It will. We'll manage, won't we?"

"Of course we will," Draco told her.

"I'll see you upstairs in a while then?"

"Indeed."

Draco watched as she walked into the house, and then he sat and gazed at the setting sun. It was getting cold out– there wouldn't be very many more nights they could sit outside.

Before he knew it, the sun was gone, and the house-elves were lighting candles for him.

Scorpius would be fine, of course. He was a Malfoy, he was strong.

Potter had been at the train station, seeing his second son off to Hogwarts. Draco had been strong. He'd been a true Malfoy. But Potter hadn't let him – he'd nodded at Draco sending him a look that Draco recognized from the bedroom, from their one night of fantastic sex and brilliant conversation.

He sighed. He was getting sentimental – why had no one ever warned him that children had a habit of doing that to their parents?

"Draco?"

Speak of the devil. Draco turned his head slowly, and there he was, the man who haunted his dreams and possessed his thoughts.

"Harry…"

"I can't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"Be him – I'm not him anymore. I want to be the man you knew, the one you wanted, the one who seduced you into bed."

"Please tell me you're kidding. It's been over two years since I brought you back, and this is the first conversation we've had. You can't have missed me that much," Draco scoffed.

Harry came around to stand in front of Draco's chair, leaning on the arms and into Draco's face.

"To begin with I hated you for keeping all this from me, my wife, my kids, fucking magic. But… I didn't give you a chance, did I? Not really. You could have butted in, but I know what I'm like. I'm stubborn and stuck in my ways. I wouldn't have listened before I did."

"Potter…" Draco stared into his eyes, trying to see if what he read in books was true, that you actually could see emotions, and into someone's soul.

"Listen, Draco," Harry insisted. "I can't do that anymore. I want you. I've told Ginny – I've left her. Be with me."

Draco couldn't answer. He was too busy kissing Harry for all he was worth. Harry pulled Draco to his feet and slid his arms around his waist. Draco dragged his eyes open and there was Astoria, looking down at them from their bedroom. She smiled gently and nodded. Then Draco forgot her and let himself settle into the kisses, into the man who was finally, finally his.


End file.
